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The Gathering of Knowledge- Sapientia
Entry 2 July 1016 I took my time traveling to the tournament. I left my home of Lindala easily a month in advance. I could not wait to leave it behind and be on my own. Forever I was watched by the elders and my teacher Cupitor. As if, in the night, some unknown force was going to whisk me away. While I loved my teacher Cupitor, the elders were always eerie to me. The elders being thousands of years old spoke in whispers of secrets most mortals should never know. However, because of the good fortune of never dying, you tend to learn things; sometimes you learn things you wish you hadn’t. I cannot blame the elders for how they are, I just pray they use their knowledge wisely. The High Elves are dwindling in numbers and we aren’t the power we once were in Ura. With the worries of home behind me I set out for Valrose and Rhivic. Within the month of the tournament I arrived. Other travelers and competitors were preparing for the competition; most were eager to test themselves against foreigners. I was no different, I grew up fighting and I loved it. I loved testing myself and winning. However, I valued anyone who could beat me and wished to learn how they did so. I know the difference between winning and learning, I know the importance of having a balance. I was also eager to encounter new people. I was tired of the same elves every day or the same human merchants inside of Lindala. I set up camp on the outskirts of the tournament. I did not want to draw too much attention to myself, but observe the competition. By the time I set up my camp and registered for the tournament it was a few days before the first event. I remembered, I walked through the camps and stumbled across someone as I can only describe as unnerving. He was tall and thin and what disturbed me, was the authority he walked with and the way he was dress. His tall frame was dressed in, as far as I could tell, black rags which left his chest bare. His swords, which he carried unsheathed, were in bad condition. The leather handles that I am sure were once beautiful were falling apart but it seemed to match his attire. However, the two swords he carried and his rags that he wore were not the most off putting about his presence. He was painted like a skeleton. This man was bone white and his face and chest were accented with black, like cracks in a wall. He also had a strange marking on his forehead. The marking was one central dot with three lines coming down. As I walked passed him I made a mental note to learn more about him, for I will most likely fight him in the pits; with his two swords and me with my Bo.